Magic under the moonlight is a concept that has captivated human imagination for centuries. There is something enchanting and mystical about the moon bathed in silver light, casting its ethereal glow on the world below. Under the moonlight, ordinary things seem to transform into something extraordinary. The night takes on a magical quality, and one can't help but feel a sense of wonder and possibility. It is as if the moon itself possesses a unique power, capable of stirring the deepest emotions and revealing hidden truths. The moon has long been associated with magic and the supernatural.
A romantic comedy about an Englishman brought in to help unmask a possible swindle. Personal and professional complications ensue.
But Sophie is intelligent, witty, practical, and confident; despite her youth and inexperience, her judgment and strength of character come off as equal to, even superior to, his. He does such tricks as making an elephant disappear, sawing a woman in half, and entering a sarcophagus and re-emerging in a chair, to the delight of audiences.
The moon has long been associated with magic and the supernatural. In folklore and mythology, it is often believed to be a source of power and a doorway to mystical realms. Witches and wizards are said to gather under the full moon to perform spells and rituals, harnessing its energy for their own purposes.
The Magical Performances of “Magic in the Moonlight”
There’s no fixed standard for performance in a movie, and the shorthand of calling a performance “good” usually applauds a banal naturalism that fits the traits of a scripted character as closely as a death mask. That standard gets in the way of the proper appreciation of movie acting, which, in its ideal form, depends not on the impersonation of a character but on the reflection of identity. Technique can’t take the place of personality, but it can help to reveal aspects of an actor’s personality that might otherwise go unnoticed, energies that might go untapped.
One such revelatory performance is that of Emma Stone in Woody Allen’s “Magic in the Moonlight.” It’s a star-making performance in the exemplary sense: it reveals the essence of movie stardom and, in doing so, lends the movie greater substance and emotional power than the story alone summons.
The film is a breezily comic version of a classic film-noir setup. It takes place in 1928, mostly on the Côte d’Azur, where Sophie Baker (Stone), a medium and a con-artist, is suspected of trying to bilk a wealthy American expatriate family with the promise of contact with the dear departed. Stanley Crawford (Colin Firth), a famed magician who performs in disguise (an unfortunate “Oriental” one), is buttonholed by a friend at a Berlin cabaret and summoned to visit the family in France, meet the medium, and rescue the family from her clutches by unmasking her as a fraud. In the resulting cat-and-mouse game, a relationship develops between Stanley and Sophie.
Stanley is an internationally famous, fairly prosperous performer in mid-career, a man of the world, with at least a sheen of learning; Sophie, for all her apparently prodigious psychic intuition, is young and inexperienced, travelling under her mother’s wing, and left on the sidelines of Stanley’s intellectual name-dropping. But Sophie is intelligent, witty, practical, and confident; despite her youth and inexperience, her judgment and strength of character come off as equal to, even superior to, his. She’s a natural master of manners, endowed with a bearing that puts her right at home among the grandees of the Riviera.
That’s exactly what Stone conveys in her performance—and she conveys it in a way that connects with the movie’s period setting. Her performance and Firth’s share a remarkable trait that anchors the film in its historical moment more firmly than almost any recent period film: immobility. It’s one of the two things that have been lost in movie acting in the past half-century, along with opacity. (Two other recent period films in which immobility is superbly portrayed are Wes Anderson’s “The Grand Budapest Hotel” and Paul Thomas Anderson’s “The Master.”) Opacity isn’t coming back, because it’s not a matter of behavior—it embodies the mentalities of a lost, pre-sixties world and reflects not a conscious decision in performance but an unconscious world view. The solid artifice of identity that made for a public face arose from the rigid boundary between public and private life, a boundary that’s now somewhere between permeable and transparent.
As for stillness, it was formerly the default state of behavior. Actors stayed immobile until they moved. Their thoughts seemed to arise on their faces unbidden even while a kind of theatrical inhibition, born of ambient social strictures, kept them from moving overtly unless impelled to do so. Now, by contrast, actors are in constant motion, whether with casual gestures or a seemingly subcutaneous fluttering or jittering. But this can be overcome by intense discipline and severe will—which, however, runs the risk of seeming imposed and artificial.
Firth and Stone achieve this sort of stillness. Firth’s, however, is uniform and unbroken, a deeply ingrained and cultivated extension of Stanley’s theatrical persona. Stone’s stillness, by contrast, is posed on a fascinating fulcrum of dynamic instability, ready to be broken at a moment’s notice. This sort of precise and controlled yet spontaneous and unrepressed performance is rare and remarkable. (If the Oscars were held today, Stone would be among my Best Actress nominees.) The performances of Stone and Firth are the center of the movie, and the sparks that fly from the friction of their subtly, aptly mismatched styles are the center of the story. Both are, in effect, playing stars, 1928-style. Stanley is a professional, Sophie is an inspired amateur who displays a world-class talent, and the differences between them, and between their modes of art, are the crux of the movie: the contrast between the stage actor and the movie star, between the skill of the trained, seasoned, and studied performer and the emotional power of the charismatic cinematic natural.
“Magic in the Moonlight” is filled with Sophie and Stanley's dialectical wrangling, the main subject of which is the authenticity of Sophie’s contact with the spirit world. Stanley, a rationalist, denies the possibility; Sophie both affirms and demonstrates it. I won’t spoil the resolution, but suffice it to say that, in the terms of the movie, magic exists. Not, as some have suggested, the magic of love, but the magic of the magic trick and the sleight of hand, discipline, imagination, invention, and controlled and controlling deception of art.
The movie is also a picnic set atop a volcano that’s ready to blow. Its opening scene in Berlin, in the chaotic days of the Weimar Republic, hints ahead to the Nazi nightmare; the presence of wealthy American coupon-clippers suggests the following year’s stock-market crash and the looming Depression. The Riviera setting conjures the salad days of the Fitzgeralds and the Hemingways and evokes the turmoil, ruin, and regret that followed. Art would take a beating; wealth and leisure would vanish; comfort and safety would be mere memories. “Magic in the Moonlight” is one of Allen’s brightly lit latter-day comedies—like “Scoop” and “You Will Meet a Tall Dark Stranger”—that casts long, dark, and gloomy shadows.
Jenkins’ reflection on Black men at peace with touch is also an image that subverts the videos of murdered Black men we’ve seen reposted on social media and rebroadcast by news outlets without reservation. This past summer, Black Lives Matter activists protested for the need to be visible, the right to even be alive. Back in 2016, with “Moonlight,” Jenkins affirmed the need for everyone to see what it means for Black men — and Black love — to live.
But the magic of the moonlight extends beyond the realm of myth and legend. In reality, the moon's gravitational pull has a profound effect on the earth and its inhabitants. The tides rise and fall under the influence of the moon, and some believe that human behavior can also be influenced by its phases. The moonlight itself has a transformative effect on the landscape. Colors are softened, shadows deepen, and the world takes on a dreamlike quality. Even the most ordinary objects are imbued with a sense of mystery and enchantment. Flowers seem to glow, and trees cast long, whimsical shadows. But perhaps the most powerful magic of all is the effect the moonlight has on the human spirit. It awakens a sense of awe and wonder, reminding us of our connection to something greater than ourselves. It ignites our imagination and stirs our deepest desires. Under the moonlight, anything seems possible, and the world is filled with infinite possibilities. In conclusion, magic under the moonlight is a captivating concept that speaks to our longing for enchantment and wonder. It reminds us of the power of nature, the mysteries of the universe, and the infinite possibilities that lie within our reach. And as we bask in the moon's ethereal glow, we are reminded that magic is not just a figment of our imagination but a tangible force that can transform our lives..
Reviews for "The Hidden Realm: Dwelling in Magic under the Moonlight"
1. Alice - 2/5 - I was really disappointed with "Magic under the moonlight". The plot was predictable and the characters were flat and uninteresting. The romance felt forced and lacked chemistry. Overall, the film just didn't live up to the hype for me.
2. Michael - 1/5 - I couldn't even make it through the whole movie. The acting in "Magic under the moonlight" was terrible, and the dialogue was cringeworthy. The story was unoriginal and felt like a cheap knock-off of other magical romance films. Save your money and skip this one.
3. Sarah - 2/5 - I wanted to like "Magic under the moonlight" because I enjoy magical films, but unfortunately, this one missed the mark for me. The pacing was slow, and I found myself losing interest halfway through. The ending was also unsatisfying and left me feeling underwhelmed. I wouldn't recommend it.
4. John - 2/5 - "Magic under the moonlight" had potential, but it fell flat. The special effects were subpar, and the magic elements felt forced and poorly executed. The performances were lackluster, and I couldn't connect with any of the characters. It was a forgettable film that I wouldn't watch again.